Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Hey, It's Frankie.
I've gone crazy. I swear. This story has murder and major character death. It is not graphic, but it's there.
?Blocked
“Hey, It's Frankie,”
That's what was shouted as he entered the victims houses. He wanted everyone to know that this was the end. That they were not one of the lucky ones.
“I'm comin' over to play,” he then whispered venomously as he approached his victims. This was all a game to Franklin.
I watched as his count grew. I followed his moves like a competitor. I needed to find a way to beat him. To finish the game.
Nobody knows that he's coming. And they won't find out until he and his 'friends' arrive. His friends being of course, his guns. The .357 and the Raven .25. I knew from that from the bare spot in our closest. There was an indent in the carpet where the gun cases were held.
It was always a shot to the left temple of the victims head. That's how he killed them. There was one time, a few months ago, when the gunshot was to the right temple. For three weeks the detectives couldn't determine that it was connected to Frankie. It didn't fit the normal MO. I, however, knew it was him. Every other piece of evidence was the same. The picked lock in the front door, the precise cut of the telephone and electric wire, the storm that shook the town. The only thing that confused the police was the right temple bullet hole, instead of the left. They thought it was a copy cat. But I knew him. Hell, I loved him at one point. I knew he liked to switch it up a bit. Make things interesting. But it was always him.
I knew that he was the murderer after the first murder. It was someone close to us. Every one of his victims were someone close to us. I had to endure twelve murders of people that I had known in my life. Twelve wakes and twelve funerals, all burying or cremating people that had meant something to me. And I knew I was next. Thirteen was his lucky number. I knew he was going to save his final scene for his thirteenth kill. And it was going to be me. I was sure of it. I was the cause of this all and I was going to die. That would be a good thing, though. It would end. The Massacre would end.
He usually waited a few weeks in between killings. I guess he needed to clean up and regroup for the next murder. Maybe plan a little. He needed the weather to be on his side, too, so that had to delay his plans a bit.
It had been exactly six weeks since his last victim was found murdered in her home. She was a woman I met in art school. We kept in touch, mainly to talk about what we were working, and I think it nerved Frank. It made him uneasy to see me with anyone that wasn't him. That's what this whole thing is about... Jealousy. Frank wasn't good at his controlling his jealousy issues.
I was on edge, checking the weather relentlessly, like a soccer mom concerned for her sons outdoor birthday party. So far clear skies. That was good at least.
Then it started to rain.
And then the lights went out and the large streaks of lightning light up our house. The storm was monumental. One of the worst storms that had hit the small town since the killings began. It fit the night, though. Frankie had to have a spectacular finale.
Here comes Frankie. Comin' over to my house.
“Hey, it's Frankie.”
That's how he always greeted me when he walked in the door to our home and tonight was not any different.
“I'm coming over to play, baby.” I soon heard as I felt a wet arm wrap around my waist and a steady gun to the back of my head.
He needed to make the last one different, I decided. It couldn't be a left bullet hole, it couldn't even be a right bullet hole. It needed to be completely different because I was the final number. He needed to keep the audience on their toes. It would take weeks for the detectives to connect this to Frankie now.
“Are you ready to play, baby? I've got my friends here. We've got some time to spend with you tonight.”
I just swallowed and readied myself for the inevitable as I felt him re grip the gun.
“Hey, it's Frankie.” He whispered his toxic line into my ear and pulled the trigger.
So.....believe it or not, this story was inspired by the theme song from the kids TV show, 'Franklin.'
Seriously, i'm crazy.
That's what was shouted as he entered the victims houses. He wanted everyone to know that this was the end. That they were not one of the lucky ones.
“I'm comin' over to play,” he then whispered venomously as he approached his victims. This was all a game to Franklin.
I watched as his count grew. I followed his moves like a competitor. I needed to find a way to beat him. To finish the game.
Nobody knows that he's coming. And they won't find out until he and his 'friends' arrive. His friends being of course, his guns. The .357 and the Raven .25. I knew from that from the bare spot in our closest. There was an indent in the carpet where the gun cases were held.
It was always a shot to the left temple of the victims head. That's how he killed them. There was one time, a few months ago, when the gunshot was to the right temple. For three weeks the detectives couldn't determine that it was connected to Frankie. It didn't fit the normal MO. I, however, knew it was him. Every other piece of evidence was the same. The picked lock in the front door, the precise cut of the telephone and electric wire, the storm that shook the town. The only thing that confused the police was the right temple bullet hole, instead of the left. They thought it was a copy cat. But I knew him. Hell, I loved him at one point. I knew he liked to switch it up a bit. Make things interesting. But it was always him.
I knew that he was the murderer after the first murder. It was someone close to us. Every one of his victims were someone close to us. I had to endure twelve murders of people that I had known in my life. Twelve wakes and twelve funerals, all burying or cremating people that had meant something to me. And I knew I was next. Thirteen was his lucky number. I knew he was going to save his final scene for his thirteenth kill. And it was going to be me. I was sure of it. I was the cause of this all and I was going to die. That would be a good thing, though. It would end. The Massacre would end.
He usually waited a few weeks in between killings. I guess he needed to clean up and regroup for the next murder. Maybe plan a little. He needed the weather to be on his side, too, so that had to delay his plans a bit.
It had been exactly six weeks since his last victim was found murdered in her home. She was a woman I met in art school. We kept in touch, mainly to talk about what we were working, and I think it nerved Frank. It made him uneasy to see me with anyone that wasn't him. That's what this whole thing is about... Jealousy. Frank wasn't good at his controlling his jealousy issues.
I was on edge, checking the weather relentlessly, like a soccer mom concerned for her sons outdoor birthday party. So far clear skies. That was good at least.
Then it started to rain.
And then the lights went out and the large streaks of lightning light up our house. The storm was monumental. One of the worst storms that had hit the small town since the killings began. It fit the night, though. Frankie had to have a spectacular finale.
Here comes Frankie. Comin' over to my house.
“Hey, it's Frankie.”
That's how he always greeted me when he walked in the door to our home and tonight was not any different.
“I'm coming over to play, baby.” I soon heard as I felt a wet arm wrap around my waist and a steady gun to the back of my head.
He needed to make the last one different, I decided. It couldn't be a left bullet hole, it couldn't even be a right bullet hole. It needed to be completely different because I was the final number. He needed to keep the audience on their toes. It would take weeks for the detectives to connect this to Frankie now.
“Are you ready to play, baby? I've got my friends here. We've got some time to spend with you tonight.”
I just swallowed and readied myself for the inevitable as I felt him re grip the gun.
“Hey, it's Frankie.” He whispered his toxic line into my ear and pulled the trigger.
So.....believe it or not, this story was inspired by the theme song from the kids TV show, 'Franklin.'
Seriously, i'm crazy.
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